


Somewhere I Belong

by theskywasblue



Category: Lost Souls - Poppy Z Brite
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-08
Updated: 2010-07-08
Packaged: 2017-10-10 11:06:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/99064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theskywasblue/pseuds/theskywasblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ghost helps Steve with the shadows in his head</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somewhere I Belong

**Author's Note:**

  * For [svana_vrika](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=svana_vrika).



> For the prompt: Linkin Park's "Somewhere I Belong"

“It’s in your head,” Ghost tells him. Which is bullshit, completely, Steve thinks; considering that Ghost is never outside his own head, ever. And Steve doesn’t have a clue how that sort of advice is supposed to help stop the noise anyway. The screaming. The nightmares.

“Don’t tell me to just let it go, okay?” He shakes out his ratty quilt and lays it across the mattress. He doesn’t want to even get into bed these days. The thing is like a trap, soaked in sweat and spit, reeking of smoke and stale beer. He’s not even sure if the worst nights are the ones when his head is filled with dreams of blood and loss, or the ones when there’s nothing inside his head at all.

Ghost leans against the doorframe, takes a long breath in, and lets an even longer breath out. Steve has become a little obsessed with the sound of Ghost’s breathing, aware now of how easily it can stop, and how easily things that aren’t even really alive can step right up in front of you and rip your heart out with their teeth before you can scream.

“You’re not the only one,” Ghost says slowly, “You know that.”

“I’m not interested in your messed up head, Ghost.”

“Fuck you.”

It’s not angry, just hurt, and when Steve looks back, Ghost is standing there with water all down his face and a set to his jaw that – if Steve did the same – would mean he wants to hit something.

“Ghost...” Steve says softy, feeling ruined and terrible. He holds out his arms, and Ghost is there in an instant, face wet against his bare shoulder. “Sorry.”

“Steve...” Ghost sniffles loudly, his arms lock around Steve’s shoulders like they’re never going to let go, and Steve feels himself hit reality for the first time since they got back from New Orleans. “Just shut up.”

-End-


End file.
